7:30
by mirajens
Summary: After seventeen years of child rearing, one would think Laxus would be used to having his coffee to the sounds of three children and their mother screaming and laughing and fighting but no, it never quite lost its novelty. (Modern AU, with kids)


**note:** So I don't normally headcanon ship children which is why I don't really have a selection that fits so I'm just gonna make the only Miraxus children I've ever thought about, which was 95% from Nani. The twins are Dax and Axel, 17 year old boys. The daughter is Arda, who is 16 here. Don't think I can be fucked to go on about them in detail because I wasn't built that strong. Maybe I'll post a headcanon thingy about them on tumblr.

I know the PMS trope is so overplayed but I am PMSing. Nani is PMSing on snapchat. There shall be PMSing in this fic.

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 **7:30**

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A morning in the Dreyar house resembled a Byzantine painting of wartime: bedlam, bloodshed and a whole lot of crisis.

After seventeen years of child rearing, one would think Laxus would be used to having his coffee to the sounds of three children and their mother screaming and laughing and fighting but no, it never quite lost its novelty. There was a brand new issue presented with each rise of the sun and it was so long ago that Laxus stopped trying to figure things out and learned to just wait for 7:30, when the kids had to leave for school and his home was quiet again.

Laxus sat on the kitchen island, a rapidly cooling mug of coffee in his hand and the broadsheet on the other. In front of him was steaming ciabatta. Behind his sensible glasses, his eyes focused on the lines of small print depicting clipped journalism about the latest military acquisition. Briefly, he wondered if he was getting old with the accompanying failing vision or if the papers just started printing in smaller font with every passing year, maybe just to fuck with him. Probably the latter. After four reading glasses, he still couldn't quite admit that he needed them.

The temporary silence of his morning started to fall apart with the sound of the iron bar stool beside him being dragged on its feet by sleepy, tired hands. Laxus' eyes jumped from newspaper to daughter. Arda, in rumpled pajamas and a rat nest of hair looked harassed and exhausted as she pushed herself up on the high chair and grabbed for the container of cereal in front of her, jammed her hand into the tall Tupperware and fed dry Honey Bunches into her yawning mouth. There was a dreary look on her face as she ate, her gaze seemingly faraway as it stared out the kitchen window. Laxus watched her for minutes, wondering if she even knew he was there.

"Good morning, dad." Laxus said in a high pitched voice that was probably supposed to be a bad imitation of her voice. "It's such a beautiful day today, isn't it, dad?"

Arda grunted. She had no patience for her father's dadness today. "Where's mom? I forgot to stock some tampons and I'm sitting on two months' worth of our toilet paper right now."

He'd long stopped being phased about stuff like that, too. Laxus sipped his coffee. "She's trying to wake your brothers up. I think she's still trying to hold onto hope that they'll make it to school in time."

"Naiveté." Arda replied dourly. More crunching of dry cereal. She had no such faith in her brothers.

"Indeed."

Maybe there was still some quiet to be had. Arda was almost always babbling away at a breakneck pace even at heinous hours of the morning. Laxus was grateful for the reprieve, even if it was apparently costing him two months' worth of toilet paper. He sat in blissful quiet with his daughter.

* * *

In five minutes, peace threatened to crumble yet again. Mirajane entered the kitchen looking spiffy in a three piece suit and her hair tied up in a bun. "Unbelievable. Dax had a boy in bed with him. On a weekday!" She shook her head as she strode to the coffee maker. Who even had time for sex on weekdays? And considering the strict curriculum of today's educational system, who even had libidos left? "He has a test this morning and I bet he didn't study for it _at all._ "

Laxus sighed through his nose. He reminded himself making children took two people. And he was one of those people who made these kids. "Where's the boy?"

"Jumped out the window when he had enough clothes back on. I don't think anyone's ready to have breakfast with you, sweetie." None of the people their children dated seemed to be. Mirajane hid her smile behind her coffee. "Good morning, angel." She said to her daughter.

Arda grumbled a low "'morning" when she felt her mother's lips on the crown of her head. "I don't have any tampons left, mama."

"There's some in the guest bathroom." Mirajane smiled more of her motherly smile when the younger of the twins came into the kitchen. Axel was already dressed for school when he sat down for breakfast, having learned long ago that his brother's morning routine took up a good part of an hour and in order to ever have a bath before his day began, rose at 6 on the dot. As her highest functioning child, Mirajane looked on him quite proudly. "Good morning, baby."

"Morning, mama. Hi, dad. Hi, shortcake." He ruffled his sister's hair as he passed her by, earning a mutinous growl and a slap to his invading hand. "Ooh, testy. By the number of breakouts on your face and that awful complexion, I'd say you're on your monthly cycle."

Arda scoffed. As if waking up with two flaming red acnes on her forehead wasn't bad enough, she had to be reminded of it. "I thought Dax was the gay brother?"

"Don't gotta be gay to appreciate nice skin." Axel framed his own face with his hands as if presenting a work of art.

Laxus turned the page of his paper. Forty more minutes until 7:30. "Mira, is gramps coming over tonight or tomorrow?" So he'd know if he had to call home for "overtime" while he had dinner at Freed's house.

"That depends if you plan on hiding at Freed's again." Mirajane tossed back. She dug out a Tupperware of salad and a bottle of dressing from the refrigerator. "Because if you're not home tonight on time, it's going to be tomorrow or whenever you're ready to see Makarov."

Laxus groaned. Not that anyone alive would ever hear it from his lips, but Laxus did love his grandfather. It was just that the old man was… He wanted to talk about so much things that freaked Laxus out, like will arrangements and shit. Laus didn't want to hear about any of that. And he especially didn't like it when Makarov started bringing family heirlooms piece by piece to give to his great grandchildren. Last time he was here, Arda got a strand of pearls that had been Laxus' mother's. Mira had spent a few minutes crying about it in the bathroom.

"I'll be home. Just tell him not to bring any shit for the kids. I don't want a vintage Rolex in Dax's hands, lest he pawn it for a new car." Laxus grumbled.

A dramatic asp cut off whatever Mirajane could reply. "Ouch, dad, I'm right here." Speak of the devil. Dax looked as bad as a used rag, wearing fresh clothes but clearly unbathed.

"How do you go to school looking like a hobo?" Laxus griped at his son, not particularly upset than bewildered.

Dax rolled his eyes as he occupied the seat beside his mother on the breakfast nook. "Dad," with a dramatic roll of his eyes, he continued, "This is fashion."

Laxus internalized. Ripped jeans were a good thing these days, apparently. He remembered Arda telling him that. Ripped jeans and cropped tops and fake nails. What was wrong with real nails all of a sudden? "Back in my day, we gave people dressed like you spare change."

"Okay, dad." There was a wittier retort at the tip of Dax's tongue but he swallowed it, remembering that he had to ask his dad for money over the weekend.

"Well, at least you won't be late for school," Mirajane said, preventing herself from saying something condescending about her boy's unwashed hair. She didn't fancy being late for work just because her son was still shampooing. "Are you ready for you sociology test today?"

"Ohh, wow that's today?" Dax asked, to the groans of his twin and his mother.

"Naiveté, am I right?"Arda murmured at her father. Laxus held his tongue. Six more minutes until seven thirty.

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 **note:** idk idk just roll with it my dude. This was requested by _Scarfaced_ here on ff.n!


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